Lynette Bishop, The Coward
by ComradeBill
Summary: I betrayed my Homeland, I gave in to the enemy, and after one week later, I will still be dead regardless. I am sorry Wilma, I am sorry Britannia, just do not become another Barkhorn or a Litvyak please. Tags : AU
1. The Bitter Disease

***Warning Mild Torture Scene***

 **...**

 **The Bitter Disease**

 **...**

 **XXXXX X XXXXX**

 **Vichy Gallia** **, or Fascist Gallia** **, Some Hellhole In Orleans**

 **L.B**

 **Day 1,**

When I was still a little tyke, I would always play with dear sis Wilma in our private backyard with the other boys from my grade after school. Playing catch , hide and seek and the roleplays, the best kind of play ever. The most common play we would be playing would be either Witches versus Neuroi, or Knights versus Vikings.

As Britannians, the knights would naturally be the good guys, heroes in shiny armour, holy and Jesus-believing, crusaders. Compared to the Vikings, the stereotypical baddies, foreign, barbaric, bearded, brutal, does a lot of pirating and plundering and probably only knows doing that, and of course, the knights are the only hope of the good guys against these bad guys. So, sometimes we pretended to be Vikings , while the others pretended to be Knights, fighting each other in a holy war for honour with wooden sticks and slingshots.

In a traditionally sexist Society such as the Britannian Society, it was queer for some girl like me to always play as the Knights instead of either a damsel in distress or a Viking witch (The role Wilma is so familiar with), this was because I had good classmates and a good sister, bloody hell I missed them...

Oh and I am rather good at what I am playing as, I does the best war speeches, swing my sword the flashiest, and able to valiantly not give in to the Vikings despite the "interrogations" they did upon me , those torturous tickles!

I am brave! Honorable! Hence I joined the Military and became a Witch just to prove those Sexists that they are wrong about females, to prove that we are not inferior, not cowardic, not weak, but I was wrong, I am weak, and I am a coward.

It was then I knew how wrong I was and how right those Sexists were when I _**GAVE**_ in to the tortures did upon me by the real Vikings, or the descendants of those Vikings , the Nazi Karlslandians, BEFORE they practiced real torture! _So my dear Vikingess Ms_ _/Fraulien Gertrud_ _Barkhorn, I will tell you everything I know about the invasion plans that we Brits had in store for you Karlslandians, every codes from radios and all the names you needed to know._

So why did I surrendered for anyways? How did it come to this? Is it because it was due to something that directly concerns my current starving situation in my dark, bleak cell with no food and no water? Or is it because of something more noble? like "Please stop toying with those two Free Gallia resistance laddies that just won't stop yelling and screaming." so I surrendered?

I surrendered because I want my clothes back.

So Imagine the face Barkhorn made with her charred, rotten face when she heard my answer.

Its so embarassing, embarassing being tied to a iron pole naked without my underwear. I feel too violated when I am smudged in dirt, looked at by young Karlslandian men at my naked breasts. Even through none of those men had oogily eyes on them, but instead...dead soulless eyes that tells me there was no lust at all, they watched me because it was their job.

Oh, and here we have Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, the Queen Vikingess herself. About her face earlier...that was no sarcasm , no hyperbole, no nothing but a blunt direct description. The moment I was caught and thrown into this hell with my Gallian mates, Barkhorn was the most terrifying thing I saw. Dressed in a typical black Gestapo uniform, wearing those white gloves that covered the blistered charred part of her hand, and her face, oh god her face, it looked like someone had roasted it with a flamethrower. Patches of rotten, reddish-brown flesh dangles on her left face and her right jaw, Her right eye was scorched so bad that it became a milky ghoulish white orb, with patches of holely, reddish-brown flesh encircling it, and she lost half of her lips, revealing her shiny skull-like teeth on the left side of her face, it was like she was constantly smiling maliciously on her marred right... She looked like one of those zombie monsters you see in horror movies, except the one in front of me was very real and alive.

Her voice, was more frightening than her looks, she spoke so monotonously and rasping. She was literally a zombie, blindly following whatever her Reich orders with no questions and no emotions, except hatred. When she hissed "So...what will make you talk?...", it sent shivers down my spine.

Nevertheless, we reached a mutual agreement, my clothes for my patriotism and dignity, what a fair trade! So, I did gave the Karlslandian the radio codes, and they returned me only my short skirt, panties and sweater, but not my scarf that my beloved Wilma had sewn for me the day before I got captured , because they were afraid that I might commit suicide with it. Oh, and there was one more lovely condition to our agreement, after one week I would be sent to a concentration camp where I will die more painfully.

Well, at least I got back my clothes, a piece of mouldly bread and a bucket of water as compared to the two Gallians whom were just a wall away from my room, crying "Viva La Gallia!" hysterically all night until Krieger, Barkhorn`s assistant, had to come into their room and beat the poor laddies into submission.

 **XXXXX X XXXXX**

∼ **.Chateau d`lf un hotel.∼**

 **#103**

 **Still in Vichy Gallia, in a Hotel in Orleans.**

 **L.B**

 **Day 2**

Can you believe it? This place I am being held in, is actually a hotel. A unlit building with wooden planks nailed on every window of almost every room is actually a hotel! Well, that explained why there were discoloured baby blue wallpapers everywhere in my... guestroom. Only when the Jerries finally ran out of actual papers for me to confess on that they had to dig up scraps, and then I found out that this was a hotel.

I am now writing on the first scrapped paper the Jerries...excuse me, ( Krieger really do not like that word), Karlslandians gave me. It`s shocking, the grandeur ∼Chateau d`lf un hotel∼, where only rich , fashionable blokes once dwelled, had been corrupted by the Nazis into such a bleak place of torture. Then again, they twisted the Romantic Gallia into a Vichy hellhole too. HELL! They turned their own country into a Orwellian Police state that was ten times worse than the Godless land of the Soviet Orussia.

Yesterday I collaborated so obediently with the Karlslandians that they decided to bring me to see the other captives. To give the other more rebellious ones a good role model to follow, saying "if you don't resist like this dog , we will treat you as good as this bitch here". So Barkhorn guided me through the damned carpeted walkway of Chateau d'lf un hotel, with a pistol in one hand.

Now then I realized, this hotel is named after the prison from the famous novel the Count of Mount Cristo, where the main protagonist, whom is a Gallian, Edmund Dante , was unrightfully imprisoned because his friend backstabbed him. Then he escaped, managed to get rich and powerful and vengeful, and killed that snitching friend.

When I entered the room where the two Free Gallia rebels were. The first one had short Cheshire hair and cracked spectacles. From the looks of her bruised , blackened face, poor bloke must not have it well in this hell, no wonder she looked so lifeless. The more high ranked, the other Gallian in blue with long blonde hair had Edmund Dante written all over her. Those bespectacled eyes of hers were hateful and vengeful. Dear God, maybe she is Edmund Dante, and I am that snitching friend!

However I know that blonde Gallian was not Edmund Dante, but Perrine H Clostermann, while the Cheshire haired one is called Amelie something, I don't know her last name. Yes, I gave the Karlslandians their names, I shall give them mine too, Lynette Bishop, the cowardic , useless snitcher. You happy now Krieger?

When Barkhorn announced my obedient collaboration with her lot. The blonde haired Gallian, stood up from her sitting position and jabbed a furious finger into my soul, screeching : "YOU DISGUSTING TRAITOR!" in perfect english.

Krieger, all armoured up in his Neuroi-core powered PanzerSoldat-III Hartmann powersuit, with one oversized gauntleted hand, he gripped Perrine by her throat and slammed her face back onto the dusty floor. Perrine struggled bitterly as Krieger continued to press her down. Barkhorn bent her marred face down to the Gallian, looking more dead than ever, she hissed:

"You and your friend haven't eaten for more than one day, a few more hours later you both would be dead by dehydration. I can assure you, Fraulien Perrine H Clostermann, having your organs shut down one by one, having your brain melting into mush, is not a good feeling. So I suggest you to save yourself, and your friend, simply by collaborating with us."

Perrine looked up at Barkhorn`s rottened eye and spit a jet of blood onto the sickening white ball, causing the Nazi to stutter back and roar in pain and rage. I have to give it to you, Perrine was very brave back there, but very foolish.

Barkhorn yelled out a tirade of Karlslandian Vulgarities, as she ordered Krieger to hold Perrine up while she whipped out a silver knife, ...I don't want to describe what happened next, it was so...like the Liberions always say...so fucked up.

Yet, Perrine still haven't cracked, but Amelie did. She cried and cried as she hugged her abused comrade. Amelie promised Barkhorn she would give up her share of info for her friend`s survival.

Perrine croaked before fainting : "No...Amelie"

Amelie still insisted, Barkhorn hence walked away from the Gallians' cell , her gloves covered in red, still gripping tightly on her blood dripping knife. Krieger guided me back to where I belonged. I turned to look over my shoulders, I saw Amelie ripping out a piece of her clothing to bandage Perrine`s wounds while wailing into the abyss.

XXXXXX

∼ **.Chateau d`lf un hotel.∼**

 **#1** **56**

 **Lynette Bishop**

 **Day 3**

I finally met Barkhorn`s second little helper, turns out to be a young, bespectacled silver-haired woman called Heidemarie. Whom was standing so close to me that I felt uncomfortable, but I can say, she is way better than that cranky brute Kreiger. Thank god I dont have to see that PanzerSoldat man for a while! Although there was times when Krieger, not in his ridiculous armour, sneakingly visiting Heidesmarie while Barkhorn wasn`t around, saying smoochy smoochy things to woo her, and... a blushing Heidemarie would shyly do the same to him.

Those were the times when I can really get to see Krieger's face as that face would be mostly behind a intimidating Iron Gas mask (or helmet) of the PanzerSoldat-III Power suit . Krieger is actually a blonde board-shouldered hulk with hypnotising blue eyes and a impressive square jaw, no wonder Heidemarie fell for him. Then I looked at the Swastika armband that constricted the man`s left arm, his masculine charm evaporated immediately before my eyes.

So, now Heidemarie guarded me as I write now, time to time I would chat with her. Since I am just a lowly prisoner with no hopes of escaping, and even if I do, it would be out of the frying pan and into the fire. I would be court-martialled for treason by the Allied Forces. Therefore, Heidemarie would not mind to share some of her tales to me.

One of the most intriguing things I learnt from Ms H is how Strumbannfruher Barkhorn got that face of hers. I am right about someone burning it into Yorkshire roast. I am wrong about the flamethrower part through, it was a molotov cocktail instead.

Gertrud Barkhorn also had a sister just like me, except hers was only ten years old, and dead, dead in the ruins of Seelow , holding a charred teddy bear on her death bed. Gertrud was stationed in Seelow until the Orussians stormed it. And guess who was leading that Orussian Division? The Infamous "Volk" Vladmirovna _**Litvyak**_ , the best anti-Soviet postergirl that the Liberions used to criticize Stalin`s cruelty in the Suomish-Soviet Winter war , the same loony that unnecessarily scorched a whole stretch of innocent Suomish countryside with Napalm, the same monster the conducted the execution of a one hundred Suomish prisoners of war , just for the sake of drawing out one Suomish sniper. Yep , that Volk Litvyak.

So it was no surprise that the Litvyak`s men blew up the whole place into nothing but ashes , killed all the Karlslandians there, Nazis and non-Nazis discriminately. Miraculously leaving Barkhorn as the only survivor, with her faced charred into mush by Volk herself.

How she escaped always remained a mystery, all Heidemarie knew was that after the Soviets left Seelow, The facially scarred Barkhorn walked back to ruins of her village to find her sister, only to find her buried under a heap of ashes, her headless body still clutching to her teddy. It was only when Barkhorn walked three feets more, she found her sister`s decapitated head lying on another pile of ruins, with a expression of shock and horror on her face before she died.

Barkhorn hugged that head tightly, crying into the air, she cried so hard until she ran out of tears and emotions, leaving a empty soulless husk behind. She made a vow that, from that day onwards she " _will not show mercy to the enemy_ ", she " _will not show weakness ever again_ " , and shall she meet Volk ever again, she " _will avenge her sister in the name of Justice!_ " Heidemarie said. And that's how the evil , soulless, bitter Gestapo captain was borned!

Then, " _again_?" What was that word all about, " _again_?" Does this mean the inquisitive, brutal Barkhorn shown mercy and weakness to the Soviets and In return, they killed everyone and roasted her face? Does it mean there was a time when Barkhorn was someone else nicer than her inquisitive Hauptstrumfruher self?

I am scared, really scared, if this is just a cruel cycle of revenge? Everybody knew what is the story behind the Soviet brutality on the Karlslandians, it was merely and act of revenge, a way the Orussians believe it was an act of justice for the horrible things the Karlslandians did upon them. Maybe that was how Litvyak was borned, then because of Litvyak, Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn was borned...dear god, if Barkhorn killed me, would the disease of bitterness and revenge infect my big sister Wilma too?

How many more little sisters must die in this war and how many bigger sisters and brothers will become a Barkhorn or a Litvyak? Is there a cure to this cancer?

That doesn't matter, as Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn was currently behind Heidemarie and myself as I write. Casually reading a fashion magazine about some funny looking countryside Karlslandian dresses while Krieger was having fun tearing out stubborn old Perrine`s fingernails with a pair of tongs.

For some reasons, I felt Barkhorn was looking at me instead of the magazine.

 **XXXXXX**

∼ **La Clemente'∼**

 **Lynn**

 **Day 5 or 4 or 7?**

How long has it been since my fate was sealed in this hellhole? I don't know, the next day after my last account, Kreiger banned me to write for while. So I spent the next few days or day alone in my claustrophobic cell. I lost track of time when I don't write, lost track how long I had left in the little week Barkhorn gave me to live.

So let's get back to what happened today.

This place used to be so fabulous, they even have a concert choir! I am writing on one of their music notes that they probably used for performance. That explained why was there a gigantic huge stone courtyard at the back of this gigantic building, where there was a grandeur stage carved from what it seemed to be marble. On that stage...erected a guillotine.

That day, Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, Heidemarie and Kreiger in his PanzerSoldat-III armour with another PanzerSoldat-III guard herded me, Perrine and Amelie to the eye scorchingly bleached courtyard. Spending too much time in the dark, the sun almost killed my eyes. I wish it does, so I don't have to see that towering guillotine that cast a shadow over my face, foreshadowing my fate.

The Nazis apparently had soaked all the info they needed out of me and Amelie, we were not much use to them anymore. So The PanzerSoldat-III pair gripped both of our wrists and tied them together with a rope while Heidemarie jabbed a needle of phenol drug into our necks. That was a courtesy of the Nazis, to make us feel less fear and pain. Still, it was not enough for the Gallian, Amelie squirmed and screamed while Perrine cried as she saw her comrade being dragged away from her. Poor Perrine, barking and twirling her body like a mad dog, until one PanzerSoldat have to do something with her.

Ten minutes.

We had to wait while they prepared this and that. The Karlslandians threw open a gate to the lower lane to entertain the passers-bys. Kreiger was slowly pulling the murderous blade of the guillotine higher and higher. It had been used recently, blood still on the blade, dripping down on the marble ground. We stood tied together mutely, and I thought, They will make me watch. They will kill her first and make me watch. Then they will kill me.

I told Amelie my name and asked for her full name, but she did not answer.

Five minutes.

The other PanzerSoldat man had already battered Perrine into silence, using a metal gauntlet to hold her head on the ground, forcing her to watch the death of her friend. Perrine gritted her teeth in between silent , hateful sobs.

The churchbell rang.

They cut the cords that tied us together. They pulled her forward and I did watch – I did not look away from her face. It was all I could do.

She called out to me just before they pushed her into position on her knees there.

 _ **" It is Planchard ! Amelie Plan-"**_

The blade descend upon her neck, and Amelie Planchard`s head rolled off the stage and the iron curtain closed on the tragic life of Amelie Planchard.

It's my turn now, Krieger grabbed me by the neck and dragged my head onto the wooden pillow. I cringed as I felt the lower part of my neck was wetted with Amelie`s blood. I panted and panted, I looked around and round, but I can't, Krieger held me so strongly that the only direction I am looking at was the opened front gate of the lower lane, where poor Amelie's head rolled to.

A innocent woman walked passed that gate , she looked down and saw Amelie's bloody head. Poor woman covered her mouth and screamed out loud and scurried off, crying .

A new figure walked in front of my vision, and that was Barkhorn, looking down at me, looking...sorry?

Then one of the most surreal thing happened in my life occured. A Karlslandian soldier rushed in from that gate and handed Barkhorn a paper... first time in forever, I saw the Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, cracked a sincere smile...

 **SWISHED!**

Kreiger released the guillotine lever, and the bloody blade cut my ponytail away, but my head did not fell.

I looked up and saw Gertrud, with a blue magical outline of a Witch enveloping her, holding the guillotine blade with her palm single handedly , still keeping her eyes on the mysterious paper she was currently reading.

"Strumbannfruher?" Krieger wheezed through his mask.

"The girl lives, orders from HQ..." Barkhorn said.

Then a dazed Krieger released me from the guillotine, and I was leaded back to the ominous darkness of the Chateau d`If un hotel , passing the other PanzerSoldat man whom was still restraining his captive. Then that captive craned her neck and glared at me and Barkhorn.

Barkhorn once again appeared in front of me, but this Barkhorn wears spectacles, had blonde hair, and is not a Nazi. Dear...god, it was actually Perrine, I never seen eyes so bloodshot and bitter, those burning vengeful glares of hate. I looked behind me and saw Barkhorn again, then I looked back at Perrine, and then back at Barkhorn...

I can't tell who is who,

but I can tell that the bitter disease had claimed another victim.

 **XXXXXX**

 **xxx**

info :

PanzerSoldat-III Hartmann

Infantry Mobile Suit

Nation: Karlslandian Third Reich / Nazi Karlsland

Right before the Second World War, due to the combined efforts of the Imperial Neuroi Hive and the infamous Hartmann Group, the most powerful research branch of the Karlslandian Third Reich, Karlsland successfully harnessed the Neuroi technology to complete with their Soviet neighbours. The PanzerSoldat series was created out of Karlsland`s technological achievement of the Neuroi tech, a shrunken down mobile suit to patrol the streets of Karlsland or its occupied territories. The PanzerSoldat-III acted as a police mobile suit, powered with a Neuroi core, armed with a MG456 miasma cannon, it is the perfect armament to cause fear to the pesky resistance who dared to defy the Third Reich.

Based off NewTypeAuthor346's gigants and Wolfenstien`s UberSoldaten

...

Character Info

Hans Krieger

Nationality: Nazi Karlsland

Class: Supersoldat Enforcer

Affiliation: Orlean Gestapo

Strumbannfruher Getrud Barkhorn`s most trustworthy assistance, loyal ,buff, strong, not very smart, perfect Aryan feature of being blonde and blue eyed, and seemed to have an affinity with the PanzerSoldat-III suit. Hans Kreiger was assigned as Barkhorn`s right hand man after Barkhorn mysteriously returned from Seelow to serve the Reich again. Not afraid to use violence, and not afraid of death, Hans is Barkhorn`s perfect hammer to trample over any who did funny business in Barkhorn`s territory of Orleans. Hans flaws, other than his thinking, was that him having a secret affair with one of his colleagues in the Orlean office.

...

Heidemarie w Schnaufer (World War)

Nationality : Nazi Karlsland

class: Night Witch

Affiliation: Orlean Gestapo

Born in Calw, located in southern Karlsland, which not far from the national border with Galia. Heidemaire's magical power manifested itself during her childhood and, since her night eye was quite effective, people expected much of her future as a Night Witch. However, because she could not control her night vision ability during her childhood, she was forced to live constantly in gloomy indoors. Incidentally, her parents were into the wine business and she used to make their gloomy wine cellar into her playground.

At 10 years-old, she was matriculated in a witch development institution and given a education that included how to control her ability. Though her night vision ability would no longer activate accidentally, the damage previously done to the optic nerve could not be restored even with magical treatment, so she usually wears glasses with a very strong prescription.

Eventually, Heidemarie as a Witch, will be conscripted into the Karlslandian army due to Hitler`s intense conscription in preparation for the war. Heidemarie did not joined the Luftwaffe, air force, but joined the Gestapo instead due to her ability as a night Witch. Heidemarie can intercept numerous radio signal from the underground resistance, communists and from anyone who had broke the oppressive laws of the Reich. Making her a dangerous tool of surveillance for the Gestapo Secret Police. Thanks to her help, Barkhorn caught over hundred rebels , all either gets shot or sent to a concentration camp.

*Strike Witch Heidemarie W Schnaufer`s Alternate counterpart

...

Amelie Planchard (World War)

Nationality : Gallia

class : Witch

Affiliation : Free Gallia

Born to a farming family in Normandy, in Northwest Gallia. As the first witch in her family line, she was sent away to a national training institute where she lived alone, away from her family, a difficult experience for such a young girl. During the Karlslandian invasion of Gallia, she joined the Free Gallian Forces with Perrine H Clostermann, the two formed a close bond together.

*Strike Witch Amelie Planchard`s Alternate counterpart

...

Lieutenant Sanya "Volk" Vladmirovna **Litvyak** (World War)

Nationality : USSR

class : Infantry Witch, Neuroi Hybrid

Affiliation: The Red Army, Third Shock Army.

Having to witness her mother separated from her, seeing her father tortured to death right in front of her just for playing an accordion in Christmas, and finally having a Neuroi core stuffed right into her skull, transforming into a monster that was neither human nor Neuroi, all thanks to the Karlslandians. Vladmirovna Litvyak , sustained herself through that unadulterated hatred she has with the Karlslandians, growing up into one of the most brutal and notorious Red Army Officers serving under Josephine Stalin.

Litvyak fought in the Winter War against the Suomishs and there she committed the Red Scorch of Suomus and the Execution of a Hundred. Where Litvyak scorched the whole countryside of Suomus with Napalm and executed a hundred prisoners of war just for the sake of drawing out one single Suomish sniper whom had taken out fifty of Litvyak`s men that day.

In Karlsland, her orders were clear, kill all Karlslandians as much as possible, for they are not allowed to surrender. As no Fascist animals shall be denied of their revenge.

When criticized of her war crimes throughout the war, she would say : " The Geneva Treaty was written by the Capitalist and Capitalists only, no point following a useless piece of waste paper."

*Strike Witch Sanya`s Alternate Counterpart

 **XXXX**

 **Author Notes :**

 **This is a incomplete Chapter, why? Because this is another TEASER chapter for Strike Witches : In Another World !**

 **I know, third Teaser chapter! Well, don't be angry with me for I had a good reason to release the third Teaser chapter.**

 **For starters I had difficulty teleporting the Soviets to the SW world (but don't worry, it will be done) and then this idea popped up in my head. This TEASER is mainly to let the reader take a glimpse of what is to come in Strike Witches: In Another World, as well as a sneak peek at what is going on in the Western Theatre in my Alternate universe.**

 **If you want to know what really happened to Barkhorn`s face, check out the full story, Strike Witches : In Another World Chapter 4, or the other TEASER chapter: Sanya , The Red Menace , simply by clicking on my username.**

 **I will delete this chapter once I completed the Soviet-Strike Witch Universe chapters (but I will keep the Teaser Story)**


	2. The Bitter Disease (Full Chapter)

***Warning Mild Torture Scene***

 **...**

 **The Bitter Disease**

 **...**

 **XXXXX X XXXXX**

 **Vichy Gallia** **, or Fascist Gallia** **, Some Hellhole In Orleans**

 **L.B**

 **Day 1,**

When I was still a little tyke, I would always play with dear sis Wilma in our private backyard with the other boys from my grade after school. Playing catch , hide and seek and the roleplays, the best kind of play ever. The most common play we would be playing would be either Witches versus Neuroi, or Knights versus Vikings.

As Britannians, the knights would naturally be the good guys, heroes in shiny armour, holy and Jesus-believing, crusaders. Compared to the Vikings, the stereotypical baddies, foreign, barbaric, bearded, brutal, does a lot of pirating and plundering and probably only knows doing that, and of course, the knights are the only hope of the good guys against these bad guys. So, sometimes we pretended to be Vikings , while the others pretended to be Knights, fighting each other in a holy war for honour with wooden sticks and slingshots.

In a traditionally sexist Society such as the Britannian Society, it was queer for some girl like me to always play as the Knights instead of either a damsel in distress or a Viking witch (The role Wilma was so familiar with), this was because I had good classmates and a good sister, bloody hell I missed them...

Oh and I am rather good at what I am playing as, I does the best war speeches, swing my sword the flashiest, and able to valiantly not give in to the Vikings despite the "interrogations" they did upon me , oh those torturous tickles!

I am brave! Honorable! Hence I joined the Military just to prove those Sexists that they are wrong about females, to prove that we are not inferior, not cowardic, not weak, but I was wrong, I am weak, and I am a coward.

It was then I knew how wrong I were and how right those Sexists were when I _**GAVE**_ in to the tortures did upon me by the real Vikings, or the descendants of those Vikings , the Nazi Karlslandians, BEFORE they practiced real torture! In a nutshell, I betrayed my Homeland and agreed to spill the beans to the Karlslandians. Not so brave now huh?

So why did I surrendered for anyways? How did it come to this? Is it because it was due to something that directly concerns my current starving situation in my dark, bleak cell with no food and no water? Or is it because of something more noble? like "Please stop toying with those two Free Gallia resistance laddies that just won't stop yelling and screaming." so I surrendered?

I surrendered because I want my clothes back.

So Imagine the face when Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn made with her charred, rotten face when she heard my answer.

Its so embarassing, embarassing to be tied to a iron pole naked without my underwear. I feel too violated when I am smudged in dirt, looked at by young Karlslandian men at my naked breasts. Even through none of those men had oogily eyes on them, but instead, dead soulless eyes that tells me there was no lust at all, they watched me because it was their job.

Oh, and here we have Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, the Queen Vikingess herself. About her face earlier...that was no sarcasm , no hyperbole, no nothing but a blunt direct description. The moment I was caught and thrown into this hell with my Gallian mates, Barkhorn was the most terrifying thing I saw. Dressed in a typical black Gestapo uniform, wearing those white gloves covered the blistered charred part of her hand, and her face, oh god her face, it looked like someone had roasted it with a flamethrower. Patches of rotten, reddish-brown flesh dangles on her left face and her right jaw. The right side of her face looks rather repulsive and melted and exposes half of her human teeth, along with an milky right eye-ball. , it was like she was constantly smiling maliciously on her marred right... She looked like one of those zombie monsters you see in horror movies except the one in front of me was very real and alive.

Her voice, was more frightening than her looks, she spoke so monotonously and rasping. She was literally a zombie, blindly following whatever her Reich orders with no questions and no emotions, except hatred. When she hissed "So...what will make you talk?...", it sent shivers down my spine.

Nevertheless, we reached a mutual agreement, my clothes for my patriotism and dignity, what a fair trade! So, I did gave the Karlslandian the radio codes, and they returned me only my short skirt, panties and sweater, but not my scarf through, the one that my beloved Wilma had sewn for me the day before I got captured , because they were afraid that I might commit suicide with it. Oh, and there was one more lovely condition to our agreement, after one week I would be sent to a concentration camp where I will die more painfully.

Well, at least I got back my clothes, a piece of mouldly bread and a bucket of water as compared to the two Gallians whom were just a wall away from my room, crying "Viva La Gallia!" hysterically all night until Krieger, one of Barkhorn`s minions, had to come into their room and beat the poor laddies into submission.

 **XXXXX X XXXXX**

∼ **.Chateau d`lf un hotel.∼**

 **#103**

 **Still in Vichy Gallia, in a Hotel in Orleans.**

 **L.B**

 **Day 2**

Can you believe it? This place I am being held in, is actually a hotel. A unlit building with wooden planks nailed on every window of almost every room is actually a hotel ! Well, that explained why there were discoloured baby blue wallpapers everywhere in my... guestroom. Only when the Jerries finally ran out of actual papers for me to confess on that they had to dig up scraps, and then I found out that this was a hotel.

I am now writing on the first scrapped paper the Jerries...excuse me, ( Krieger really do not like that word), Karlslandians gave me. It`s shocking, the grandeur ∼Chateau d`lf un hotel∼, where only rich , fashionable blokes once dwelled, had been corrupted by the Nazis into such a bleak place of torture. Then again, they twisted the Romantic Gallia into a Vichy hellhole too. HELL! They turned their own country into a Orwellian Police state that was ten times worse than the Godless land of the Soviet Orussia.

Yesterday I collaborated so obediently with the Karlslandians that they decided to bring me to see the other captives. To give the other more rebellious ones a good role model to follow, saying "if you don't resist like this dog , we will treat you as good as this bitch here". So Barkhorn guided me through the damned carpeted walkway of Chateau d'lf un hotel, with a pistol in one hand.

Now then I realized, this hotel is named after the prison from the famous novel the Count of Mount Cristo, where the main protagonist, whom is a Gallian, Edmund Dante , was unrightfully imprisoned because his friend backstabbed him. Then he escaped, managed to get rich and powerful and vengeful, and killed that snitching friend.

When I entered the room where the two Free Gallia rebels were. The first one had short Cheshire hair and blue eyes. From the looks of her bruised , blackened face, poor bloke must not have it well in this hell, no wonder she looked so lifeless. The more high ranked, the other Gallian in blue with long blonde hair had Edmund Dante written all over her. Those bespectacled eyes of hers were hateful and vengeful. Dear God, maybe she is Edmund Dante, and I am that snitching friend!

However I know that blonde Gallian was not Edmund Dante, but Perrine H Clostermann, while the Cheshire haired one was called Amelie something, I don't know her last name. Yes, I gave the Karlslandians their names, I shall give them mine too, Lynette Bishop, the cowardic , useless snitcher. You happy now Krieger?

When Barkhorn announced my obedient collaboration with her lot. The blonde haired Gallian, stood up from her sitting position and jabbed a furious finger into my soul, screeching : "YOU DISGUSTING TRAITOR!" in perfect english.

Krieger, all armoured up in his Neuroi-core powered PanzerSoldat-III Hartmann powersuit, with one oversized gauntleted hand, he gripped Perrine by her throat and slammed her face back onto the dusty floor. Perrine struggled bitterly as Krieger continued to press her down. Barkhorn bent her marred face down to the Gallian, looking more dead than ever, she hissed:

"You and your friend haven't eaten for more than one day, a few more hours later you both would be dead by dehydration. I can assure you, Fraulien Perrine H Clostermann, having your organs shut down one by one, having your brain melting into mush, is not a good feeling. So I suggest you to save yourself, and your friend, simply by collaborating with us."

Perrine looked up at Barkhorn`s rottened eye and spit a jet of blood onto the sickening white ball, causing the Nazi to stutter back and roar in pain and rage. I have to give it to you, Perrine was very brave back there, but very foolish.

Barkhorn yelled out a tirade of Karlslandian Vulgarities as she ordered Krieger to hold Perrine up while she whipped out a silver knife, ...I don't want to describe what happened next, it was so...like the Liberions always say...so fucked up.

Yet, Perrine still haven't cracked, but Amelie did. She cried and cried as she hugged her abused comrade. Amelie promised Barkhorn she would give up her share of info for her friend`s survival.

Perrine croaked before fainting : "No...Amelie"

Amelie still insisted, Barkhorn hence walked away from the Gallians' cell , her gloves covered in red, still gripping tightly on her blood dripping knife. Krieger guided me back to where I belonged. I turned to look over my shoulders, I saw Amelie ripping out a piece of her clothing to bandage Perrine`s wounds while wailing into the abyss.

XXXXXX

∼ **.Chateau d`lf un hotel.∼**

 **#1** **56**

 **Lynette Bishop**

 **Day 3**

I finally met Barkhorn`s second little helper, turns out to be a young, bespectacled silver-haired woman called Heidemarie. Whom was standing so close to me that I felt uncomfortable, but I can say, she is way better than that cranky brute Kreiger. Thank god I dont have to see that PanzerSoldat man for a while! Although there were times when Krieger, not in his ridiculous armour, sneakingly visiting Heidesmarie while Barkhorn wasn`t around, saying smoochy smoochy things to woo her, and... a blushing Heidemarie would shyly do the same to him.

Those were the times when I can really get to see Krieger's face as that face would be mostly behind a intimidating Iron Gas mask (or helmet) of the PanzerSoldat-III Power suit . Krieger is actually a blonde board-shouldered hulk with hypnotising blue eyes and a impressive square jaw, no wonder Heidemarie fell for him. Then I looked at the Swastika armband that constricted the man`s left arm, his masculine charm evaporated immediately before my eyes.

So, now Heidemarie guarded me as I write now, time to time I would chat with her. Since I am just a lowly prisoner with no hopes of escaping, and even if I do, it would be out of the frying pan and into the fire. I would be court-martialled for treason by the Allied Forces. Therefore, Heidemarie would not mind to share some of her tales to me.

One of the most intriguing things I learnt from Ms H is how Strumbannfruher Barkhorn got that face of hers. I am right about someone burning it into Yorkshire roast. I am wrong about the flamethrower part through, it was a molotov cocktail instead.

Gertrud Barkhorn also had a sister just like me, except hers was only ten years old, and dead, dead in the ruins of Seelow , holding a charred teddy bear on her death bed. Gertrud was stationed in Seelow until the Orussians stormed it. And guess who was leading that Orussian Division? The Infamous "Volk" Vladmirovna _**Litvyak**_ , the best anti-Soviet postergirl that the Liberions used to criticize Stalin`s cruelty in the Suomish-Soviet Winter war , the same loony that unnecessarily scorched a whole stretch of innocent Suomish countryside with Napalm, the same monster the conducted the execution of a one hundred Suomish prisoners of war , just for the sake of drawing out one Suomish sniper. Yep , that Volk Litvyak.

So it was no surprise that the Litvyak`s men blew up the whole place into nothing but ashes , killed all the Karlslandians there, Nazis and non-Nazis discriminately. Miraculously leaving Barkhorn as the only survivor, with her faced charred into mush by Volk herself.

How she escaped always remained a mystery, all Heidemarie knew was that after the Soviets left Seelow, The facially scarred Barkhorn walked back to ruins of her village to find her sister, only to find her buried under a heap of ashes, her headless body still clutching to her teddy. It was only when Barkhorn walked three feets more, she found her sister`s decapitated head lying on another pile of ruins, with a expression of shock and horror on her face before she died.

Barkhorn hugged that head tightly, crying into the air, she cried so hard until she ran out of tears and emotions, leaving a empty soulless husk behind. She made a vow that, from that day onwards she " _will not show mercy to the enemy_ ", she " _will not show weakness ever again_ " , and shall she meet Volk ever again, she " _will avenge her sister in the name of Justice!_ " Heidemarie said. And that's how the evil , soulless, bitter Gestapo Barkhorn was borned!

Then, " _again_?" What was that word all about, " _again_?" Does this mean the inquisitive, brutal Barkhorn shown mercy and weakness to the Soviets and In return, they killed everyone and roasted her face? Does it mean there was a time when Barkhorn was someone else nicer than her inquisitive Hauptstrumfruher self?

I am scared, really scared, if this is just a cruel cycle of revenge? Everybody knew what is the story behind the Soviet brutality on the Karlslandians, it was merely and act of revenge, a way the Orussians believe it was an act of justice for the horrible things the Karlslandians did upon them. Maybe that was how Litvyak was borned, then because of Litvyak, Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn was borned...dear god, if Barkhorn killed me, would the disease of bitterness and revenge infect my big sister Wilma too?

How many more little sisters must die in this war and how many bigger sisters and brothers will become a Barkhorn or a Litvyak? Is there a cure to this cancer?

That doesn't matter, as Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn was currently behind Heidemarie and myself as I write. Casually reading a fashion magazine about some funny looking countryside Karlslandian dresses while Krieger was having fun tearing out stubborn old Perrine`s fingernails with a pair of tongs.

For some reasons, I felt Barkhorn was looking at me instead of the magazine.

 **XXXXXX**

∼ **La Clemente'∼**

 **Lynn**

 **Day 5 or 4 or 7?**

How long has it been since my fate was sealed in this hellhole? I don't know, the next day after my last account, Kreiger banned me to write for while. So I spent the next few days or day alone in my claustrophobic cell. I lost track of time when I don't write, lost track how long I had left in the little week Barkhorn gave me to live.

So let's get back to what happened today.

This place used to be so fabulous, they even have a concert choir! I am writing on one of their music notes that they probably used for performance. That explained why was there a gigantic huge stone courtyard at the back of this gigantic building where a grandeur stage carved from what it seemed to be marble was built at the center of that area of stone. On that stage...erected a guillotine.

That day, Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, Heidemarie and Kreiger in his PanzerSoldat-III armour with another PanzerSoldat-III guard herded me, Perrine and Amelie to the eye scorchingly bleached courtyard. Spending too much time in the dark, the sun almost killed my eyes. I wish it does, so I don't have to see that towering guillotine that cast a shadow over my face, foreshadowing my fate.

The Nazis apparently had soaked all the info they needed out of me and Amelie, we were not much use to them anymore. So The PanzerSoldat-III pair gripped both of our wrists and tied them together with a rope while Heidemarie jabbed a needle of phenol drug into our necks. That was a courtesy of the Nazis, to make us feel less fear and pain. Still, it was not enough for the Gallian, Amelie squirmed and screamed while Perrine cried as she saw her comrade being dragged away from her. Poor Perrine, barking and twirling her body like a mad dog, until one PanzerSoldat have to do something with her.

Ten minutes.

We had to wait while they prepared this and that. The Karlslandians threw open a gate to the lower lane to entertain passers-by. Kreiger was slowly pulling the murderous blade of the guillotine higher and higher. It had been used recently, blood still on the blade, dripping down on the marble ground. We stood tied together mutely, and I thought, They will make me watch. They will kill her first and make me watch. Then they will kill me.

I told Amelie my name and asked for her full name, but she did not answer.

Five minutes.

The other PanzerSoldat man had already battered Perrine into silence, using a metal gauntlet to hold her head on the ground, forcing her to watch the death of her friend. Perrine gritted her teeth in between silent , hateful sobs.

The churchbell rang.

They cut the cords that tied us together. They pulled her forward and I did watch – I did not look away from her face. It was all I could do.

She called out to me just before they pushed her into position on her knees there.

 _ **" It is Planchard ! Amelie Plan-"**_

The blade descend upon her neck, and Amelie Planchard`s head rolled off the stage and the iron curtain closed on the tragic life of Amelie Planchard.

It's my turn now, Krieger grabbed me by the neck and dragged my head onto the wooden pillow. I cringed as I felt the lower part of my neck was wetted with Amelie`s blood. I panted and panted, I looked around and round, but I can't, Krieger held me so strongly that the only direction I am looking at was the opened front gate of the lower lane, where poor Amelie's head rolled to.

A innocent woman walked passed that gate , she looked down and saw Amelie's bloody head. Poor woman covered her mouth and screamed out loud and scurried off, crying .

Poor bloke

Then a new figure walked in front of my vision, and that was Barkhorn, looking down at me, looking...sorry?

Then one of the most surreal thing happened in my life occured. A Karlslandian soldier rushed in from that gate and handed Barkhorn a paper... first time in forever, I saw the Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, cracked a sincere smile...

 **SWISHED!**

Kreiger released the guillotine lever, and the bloody blade cut the tip of my ponytail away, but my head did not fell.

I looked up and saw Gertrud, with a blue magical outline of a Witch enveloping her, holding the guillotine blade with her palm single handedly , still keeping her eyes on the mysterious paper she was currently reading.

"Strumbannfruher?" Krieger wheezed through his mask.

"The girl lives, orders from HQ..." Barkhorn said.

Then a dazed Krieger released me from the guillotine, and I was leaded back to the ominous darkness of the Chateau d`If un hotel , passing the other PanzerSoldat man whom was still restraining his captive. Then that captive craned her neck and glared at me and Barkhorn.

Barkhorn once again appeared in front of me, but this Barkhorn wears spectacles, had blonde hair, and is not a Nazi. Dear...god, it was actually Perrine, I never seen eyes so bloodshot and bitter, those burning vengeful glares of hate. I looked behind me and saw Barkhorn again, then I looked back at Perrine, and then back at Barkhorn...

I can't tell who is who,

but I can tell that the bitter disease had claimed another victim.

 **XXXXXX**

 **Vichy Gallia**

 **Lynette Bishop**

 **Day 5 apparently**

It was apparently the fifth day since I am under the custody of the Nazis. Five days I spent, I supposedly had two days left, then Heidemarie informed me that I had a week day more all thanks to Barkhorn's grace.

I still don't get it, Why on earth do she want to spare me? What use do I have for the Jer... Karlslandians anyways? I vomited out as much codes as I could, I really don't know what to write.

"May I inform you that it was because of the Strumbannfruher's grace that you are still breathing today. So I suggest you to do your part in our collaboration, because Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn would not like to proceed with **physical** motivation."

Heidemarie said this, for the tenth sodding time.

I KNOW HEIDEMARIE YOU JERRY! SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP! DAMN YOU AND THAT BRUTE PISH OF SHITE BOYFRIEND OF YOURS!

Oh yeah, Heidemarie, remember in my last, last account I accidentally revealed Heidemarie`s little steamy affair with Kreiger. Apparently it is against Gestapo regulations to fraternize with another colleague, just like smoking , which Heidemarie also engaged in. Hiding cigar butts inside the flower pot that was placed right in front of my cell, Cehroie Brand, classy (Hah! I did that on purpose Heidemarie!). For a no funny-business woman like Barkhorn, she would not let such insubordination get pass her, hence I don't think she would let Kreiger and Heidemarie off that easily. That explained why Heidemarie became so salty with me after that day.

Heidemarie now guarded me lesser, so I have to see angry Hans Kreiger`s 55mm (about this thick...I guess?) plated face more often. Giving me robotic grunts and angry looks with his lens for stopping him seeing his gal so much. Although there was times when Heidemarie visited Kreiger by using excuses like operating the radio set that was placed outside my cell, right beside the flower pot of cigars. Heidemarie was apparently a night witch, intercepting signals from unsuspecting Resistance radios with her magical antennas.

She looked so focused in her work as I watched green glowing antennas turned from green to red , red to blue , and back to green. With her eyes closed.

So I decided to prank on her for a bit.

"ACHTUNG ! FRAULEIN HEIDEMARIE, HEIL HITLER!" I screamed.

Heidemarie catapulted to her feet and threw herself into a forty-five degree salute that must have nearly dislocated her shoulder.

Oh, that was comedy gold!

Although the fun ends as fast as how Heidemarie recovered when her Nazi-ly militarily stoned face turned redder than a tomato. Well, it would be no surprise that she then angrily tore off her gloves and smacked the thrill out of me . She smacked me so hard until my face was red with my blood and I was knocked over.

When Kreiger held me up by my arms, Heidemarie smacked my face for a few more joyful times just for the sheer hell out of it.

What a lovely star-crossed couple.

 **XXXXX**

∼ **.Chateau d`lf un hotel.∼**

 **#565**

 **Fascist Gallia**

 **Lynette Bishop**

 **Day 8**

Even if I ran out of radio codes and names, I am apparently a good decoder of encrypted poems , someone that the Karlslandians still needs , and would not kill yet. Then again, can't Heidemarie the night witch do it? They don't need a useless little snitcher like me anymore! Why would Barkhorn still let me live? It doesn't make any sense!

Well, today I finally found out why.

So today everything went pretty normal so far, Kreiger and his other PanzerSoldat mate were torturing Perrine again, Heidemarie doing her radio thingy, I am decoding poems and Barkhorn was sitting right next to me, doing her paperwork.

Eventually we both got bored of our work and Barkhorn started the conversation.

Did you know that Barkhorn asked me if I've read Goethe. She has been chewing over this idea that I can 'buy' time in exchange for bits of my soul and she wondered if I likened myself to Faust. Nothing like an arcane literary debate with your tyrannical master while you pass the time leading to your execution.

I proven to be quite the literate, a literate who pleased the Strumbannfruher with my knowledge from William Shakespeare to George Orwell. I can tell that she was indeed impressed by her nodding.

Even though later she lowered down her head and gave the blank wall in front of us a sad, disappointed look.

"My sister used to read them too, reading such books in such a small age." Barkhorn sighed without a hint of emotion.

...Dear God, that was why Barkhorn want to keep me alive, did she really broke herself back in Seelow?

Just a wall away, I can hear Perrine screeching hysterically like a vicious madwoman. Not screaming in pain like before, but aggressively barking and howling insults and vulgarities in every breath of agony.

Eventually Perrine would lose her voice in the end. When Kreiger or any other tormentor leaved Perrine alone, in one hour or less , she would break down into pitiful mournful sobs, releasing the pathetic cries of pain she bottled up while mournfully mouthing Amelie's name in the dark. Like a sad banshee wailing, wailing loud enough for every Nazis and prisoners to hear, but when Kreiger, Barkhorn , Heidemarie or any Swastika-wearing blokes entered her room, She would bark like a angry dog again.

Poor bloke, still refuse to give up hope innit?

 **XXXXX**

 **Ruined Gallia**

 **Lynnette Bishop**

 **Day 9**

The last poem I decoded was actually from Wilma! Dear god, all these times she and the Company was looking for me! "Poodle", the name of the missing (captured) liaison officer were scribbled here and there, with a targeted location they would like to check, but what good does that do anyways? That poem I decoded was already quite outdated, the date of operation on that poem had already been long passed. Even if they did managed to rescue me, I would be killed by my own my countrymen for treason. Treason is a unforgivable crime punishable by Court Martial.

Imagine the face Wilma and her mates from The Company made when they saw me, writing papers for the enemy. I can already saw it, Wilma`s face of anger and disgust before raising her revolver which was meant to kill Nazis, to kill me.

It was hopeless for me, the hope in Wilma`s poem was like a carrot, laced with gunpowder and poison and was tied on a stick, always unreachable, yet it seems to be so close! Sadly Barkhorn cannot see that.

Yesterday, two buffy PanzerSoldats , one of them was Kreiger of course, grabbed me by my arms and threw me in a dark room where Barkhorn was, arm crossed, sitting on a chair with a overhead lamp dangling in front her, the only light source of this damned bleak room.

Once I was forced onto a wooden stool, I heard the cocking of a pistol clicked behind me, and the lovely barrel of the luger were pressed to the back of my head again.

Turned my head to the other bleak corner of the room and what do you know? As usual , Heidemarie was mixing her colorful potions of pain, what a talented little chemist Witch.

This routine was already getting old.

I looked at Strumbannfruher Barkhorn with dull eyes while she gave me furious ones.

"Poodle..." Barkhorn wheezed out my codename.

"...Company..." She continued, cracking her knuckles.

"and finally...Wilma, mind to enlighten me? Fraulein Bishop, or shall I call you...`Poodle`?"

Congrats, She had found out.

I scraped my hair back from my face, and holding it in place with one hand, straightened my shoulders and clicked my heels together, too tired by the Nazi shenanigans. I said coldly, in Karlslandian.

"What proof do you have that I am London's Liaison officer with the Gallians?" I asked back even through I knew the answer.

Barkhorn`s face turned whiter than the paper I am currently writing on. She spoke breathlessly : "You were caught in eleventh of October in 1945 along with the other two Gallians rebels in Cherie Inn. One of them I would like to remind you, is dead, you saw her die yourself. Intel reports that the Resistance was making contact with their Brittianian allies. The information from our sources states that the Gallians were plotting with the Brittanian-based saboteur group , the Company, to sabotage several of our facilities in Orleans."

She bent forwards, her facially scarred face drew closer to my yet unblemished one.

"They sent one Liaison officer to contact the Gallians in Orleans, their operation was planned one day after the eleventh of October. The officer`s name was called "Poodle". "

"Such coincidence, the dates and the location...so why shouldn't you be "Poodle"?"

"Poodle`s papers are all forgeries in any case, they cannot prove anything." I simply said .

Barkhorn does not seemed to be convinced, she continued to stare into my soul, something that I already had sold to her.

So I paused, and breathed in and - breathed out - and stood up, then advanced on her, our nose almost touched, not afraid of that empty gun behind my head. I let go of my hair and looked up at her, hair dishevelled , all doe eyes and vulnerability. I asked in Karlslandian, in a voice of wonder and hurt , 'What is your sister`s name?'

Barkhorn retracted her face away from mine, her expression relaxed, she was in a daze.

"Christaine," The Nazi Inquisitor answered instinctively before widening her eyes and looking down , the unburnt parts of her face blushed with redness.

I fell back to my postion and laughed out hysterically.

"See?! I don't need acid ! I don't need electricity ! I don't need carbonic ! All I need to do is to ask a question , and you answered it ! " I laughed at her, and I continued laughing.

Before that mate who wields a empty pistol or Heidemarie want to do something physical with me, Barkhorn raised her hand and ordered them to leave. With much hesitation, the two left, leaving the room for us two only. I silently looked at Barkhorn , I had stopped laughing , but still standing taller than the sitting her.

"Sit down."

"What does Christaine think about about your war work?"

This time she stood up, turns out she was taller than me by a million heads, enough to cover my face with her shadow.

"Sit down" she commanded me this time, using her height.

And I obediently sat, staring into her right blinded eye that was so ghoulishly white that it glowed in her towering shadow. Even if her lips were closed, through the burnt hole on the side her right face I can still see the exposed rows of fleshy teeth chattered as she spoke.

"Christiane knew nothing about my work, she will never know , she is innocent till death." She said softly.

Then the towering blackcoat herself turned her back on me, looked up the ceiling and sang :

.

Es gibt ein Haus in Neu-Berlin,

man nennt es Haus Abendrot.

Es war der Ruin vieler guter Jungs,

von mir, mein Gott lebt ich not...

.

...Hätt ich meinem Anführer zugehört

Ich wäre heute Daheim

war jung und dumm

war ein armer madcheb

auf dem Abweg geführt und gemein ,

.

Sagt meinem kleinem Schlößerlein

das Sie mir nicht nachrennt

Soll meiden das Haus in Neu-Berlin

das Haus Abendrot man nennt!

.

I stare deadpanned at Barkhorn, who just sang in front of me, and it was beautiful. Barkhorn slightly turned her face back to me, this time the electric bulb of the overhead lamps had shone light on her left, her uncharred, unblemished , still humane side of Gertrud Barkhorn.

And I saw the face of a sad older sister with sorry , guilty and regretful eyes, she looked too much like Wilma.

.

There is a house in New Berlin

It is called House Sunset.

It ruined many good guys

Of mine, my God, I lived in misery

.

If I had listened to my Fruher

I would be at home today

I was young and stupid

I was a poor girl

Lead to the wrong path and mean.

.

Tell to my small sister

That she shall not run after me

She should avoid the house in New Berlin

that is called House Sunset.

.

That was what she sang,

But Christiane Barkhorn ran with her to Seelow innit? The house in the New Berlin. Gertrud didn't follow the typical Nazi way her Fruher taught : kill and fight and die. She showed weakness, she showed possibly kindness, the correct way of humanity , but the wrong way which caused Gertrud`s misery. That's how Gertrud Barkhorn got ruined.

I looked at Barkhorn...I saw my future, I saw Wilma`s future.

I am a bloody idiot! Why did I run after Wilma`s path to the house of the military! Why did I even sign up for this?! I thought of the good guys I ruined, Perrine, Barkhorn, Wilma and the poor late Amelie - All because of me

I could only lower down my head in shame and regret.

"Poodle, if you have confessed sooner, you could have safe yourself a great deal of suffering." She said.

"I have nothing to confess, I spoke the truth , I am not Poodle, not anymore." I said honestly, head still lowered, not daring to make eye-contact.

And it is the truth, Poodle was a ignorant, egotistical, stupid idiot who was so full of herself. Now , I am not her. If I did see her , I would yell at her, scream and her , and tell her NOT TO BE A BLOODY HERO WITH A FOOLISH HOPES AND DREAM!

Proving those sexist wrong? Becoming a war hero? Dreamer, one sodding bloody dreamer. This is the sad truth of hopes and dreams, powerful and cancerous and dangerous. Barkhorn, this time saw my honesty.

"Very well Lynette Bishop, you have redeemed me, thank you." She said, then bowed a bit and left the room using the door behind her.

I said nothing, and left the room through the other door, where Kreiger, Heidemarie and another Karlsland officer waited for me. Then lead me back to my cell for me to regret by myself.

 **XXXX**

 **Gallia**

 **Lynnette Bishop**

 **Day** **14 or 15?**

First I sold my dignity, then I sold my body.

Since the Nazis have nothing to with me today, they have me to do labour. Although forced, I am still willing. Today Kreiger dragged me to the basement kitchen, where a old crooked cook awaits for me be his assistant in the dark.

My Job? To peel potatoes for the soup the chef was going to make for the Nazis. As he turned on the stove, I looked at the luxurious liquid boiling inside that saucepan. Boy, don't I want a sip, I thought as I peeled the potatoes while having my leg chained to a gas pipe. I never knew leg irons were this uncomfortable.

So again I made a deal, this time with the chef. Again I reached a mutual agreement with someone, three teaspoon of soup for my body.

No, I will not get pregnant, the boney old goat only fondled with my boobs as I did mentioned my affiliation with Strumbannfruher Barkhorn. So the sexual assault did not go out of control. I cringed as I felt his long fingernails scratched my breast as he watched with a drooling face.

Yes I had fallen this low that I have to chose between a Nazi inquisitor and a perverted chef.

So after that, I shrunk back at a corner, sipping warm potato soup on a small teacup that will kept me fed for properly a day. I havent ate probably for half a week I guess! My condition was at least better than stubborn ole' Perrine I guess.

"Vart doing are you?" Some Jerry said in broken english with a gruff male voice.

And what did you know? It was Heidemarie and Kreiger , the lovely couple who really disliked me, happened to walk by, seeing me eating their food. Great , I think you know what happens to someone who ate Nazi food, Krieger grabbed me by the throat and dragged me to Heidemarie`s chemistry lab of torture.

So I used the Barkhorn scare on them again, this only made Heidemarie laugh maliciously.

"Strumbannfruher Barkhorn is not here today, so she ordered me to uphold the rules here -which you had broke , you fleeting telltale." She growled.

So I screamed a lot as Heidemarie electrocuted me badly with electricity, then washed my hair with kerosene, then have Kreiger pluck out two of my teeth, and I haven`t ate with my injured mouth for a day.

XXXXX

 **Gallia**

 **Lynnette Bishop**

 **I don't care what day it is**

Perrine kept barking , then cried, then BARKED ! And CRIED AGAIN! EVERY BLOODY NIGHT!

Can't those Jerries get it? The Gallie WILL. NEVER .TALK! She is way too stubborn and persistent. Everyday after Amelie`s death would be the same, Nazis torture Perrine, Perrine barked at them in defiance, then Nazi left , Perrine cried nosily at night. Perrine may not had broke, but I did, I BLOODY DID. Every night I have to tore out chunks of my hair, (YES, It had became this brittle) just to endure her shenanigans.

So I jumped on my feet , and banged my fist on the wall that separated our cells , and screamed on top of my lungs in her language.

"LIE! JUST BLOODY , FUCKING , LIE TO THEM! STOP BEING A SODDING BLOODY HERO! JUST...FUCKING...LIE!"

Perrine still shrieked and wailed.

"LIE! DIDN'T YOU HEARD ME YOU STUPID PIG? LIE!"

I banged the wall harder , a glob of my saliva splat onto the wall before me.

She did not stop.

My bloodshot eyes darted left then right, then I tored out a loose iron pipe from the brittle wall beside me and banged it against the copper door knob of my cell hysterically. Then screamed "LIE ! LIE ! BLOODY, SODDING , FUCKING LIE!" With my tears continue to ran down my face.

And I got a reaction, but it was not from Perrine...

The door opened in front of me , and I fell forward. Hands still holding onto the rusty iron pipe . I looked up and saw Kreiger , dressed in his PanzerSoldat-III armour looking down on me. He picked me up and held me blinking in the sudden bright lights, and dragged me to some random room where Perrine was. I tried not to look at the wretched girl, who had also been plucked from her room like just me.

And there was Barkhorn, in civilian clothes, more precisely in one of those tight-fitting countryside Karlslandian dresses I see in her fashion magazines, a red Dirnl dress. She was wearing a half of a metallic dark fake-face opera mask to conceal her facial disfigurations, sitting in a cloud of acrid smoke like Lucifer himself (no one smokes when she is around, I don't know and don't want to know what they were burning). With that concealing face mask she was wearing, the Karlslandian woman was quite the looker, more like a sinister femme fatale, which she was in that very hour.

She gestured her subordinates with her eyes, and a PanzerSoldat forced me on my kneels. She let me stutter and shake under her shadow for a while, before she spoke.

"You adviced something to your fellow prisoner didn't you? I don't think she heard you. Tell her again."

I looked at the crippled Gallian, she still looked at me with hostile eyes. I looked back at Barkhorn and her lot, then shook my head, not sure what kind of sick games she was playing this time.

"Go to her side, speak to her in the face , and make sure she hears you this time, make sure we all do." Barkhorn clarified and Kreiger pushed me forward with a metal gauntlet.

I almost fell onto my former comrade, but I manage get a hold on myself with my hands.

Perrine was still curled up pathetically in the shadows, she slowly began to turn her body to my direction. Dear god...she looked horrible, she lost all her fingernails, revealing the yellowish infection-riddled flesh underneath. Her bloody eyes shown that sleep was something that was taken from her as well. Those bloodshot , violent, vengeful , bloodthristy eyes of hers scares me.

With her injured hand , she covered the multiple burnt marks and bruises that vandalized her formerly noble body, and then she turned her face away again, her soot caked long hair covered one of her eyes.

I hestiated to get close to someone this dangerous, but I decided to play along nevertheless, as the group behind my back was far more dangerous than the lone Gallian in front of me. I uneasily pulled my face closer to hers, then whispered softly to her ear,

"Just lie, save yourself."

Perrine turned her swollen lips towards me and spit on my face.

"I don't think she get a great deal of your advice, tell her again, this time...loudly." Barkhorn said.

"LIE!" I screamed .

This time Perrine spoke, her voice hoarse and raspy, but she tried to speak. She croaked with a venomous smile : "Lie to them, is that what you had been doing all along, lying?"

I retracted from Perrine speechless, all anger I had with her had evaporated in a instant, replaced with nothing but shock and guilt. There was a moment of silence , I really don't know what was happening, what kind of games Barkhorn was playing on the poor Gallie? Then , Barkhorn answered directly to me, with balant disinterest :

"Answer her."

My eyes widen with angry realization.

The anger came back all of a sudden, not at Perrine this time.

"You bloody hypocrite ." I snarled at Barkhorn, she raised a eyebrow at my sudden statement.

"Don't you ever lie?! Then what the sodding hell did you told to Christiane when she asked about your Job?! "

She did not reply.

I stood up, and jabbed a finger through her chest.

"Oh I know...YOU FUCKING LIE TOO!"

All the other Nazis were taken aback by my sudden outburst. Perrine, scanned her eyes disinterestingly around the room before closing her eyes, taking the opportunity to rest. But Barkhorn stayed silently emotionless, but her face paled very grimly.

With one shaking hand, she removed the opera mask, revealing the ugly, scarred , rotten face of hers. Her protruding white eye stared into my soul, then the skeletal teeth inside the burnt out hole of her right face chattered ,

"Car..."

Her left eye twitched

"bon..."

She crushed the face mask with her clenching hand.

"nic..."

Her Subordinates looked at each other uneasily, then Barkhorn dropped the crumpled mask on the ground and stomped it.

"This woman have the filthiest tongue of all the women in the whole of Europe, wash her mouth clean with carbonic." Barkhorn hissed and turned her back on me .

They held me down, and I struggled. I watched as I saw two men rushed into a room with a cart of chemical bottles. I continued to struggle as I saw two young Officers argue about the correct dosage of acid they were going to chug down my throat. I screeched :

"Look at me Strumbannfruher Gertrud Barkhorn, LOOK AT ME YOU SADISTIC LIAR! Look at me now and enjoy my suffering! This is not your work, I am not a enemy agent vomiting information that can get your arse promoted, I am just a bloody Britannian girl who is screaming insults at your dead sister! SO ENJOY IT AND WATCH IT YOURSELF! Think of Christiane! Think of Christiane and WATCH! "

Barkhorn raised a hand, and the Nazis stopped whatever they were doing.

She couldn't do it.

I gasped with relief.

Then she looked over her shoulders, with her blinded right eye.

"Tomorrow , after she had eaten, find Heidemarie, she knows how to prepare the phenol."

"Coward ! Coward ! " I cried with angry tears , "Do it yourself, DO IT NOW IF YOU HAVE THE GUTS!"

"Get the bitch out of here" Barkhorn hissed softly, and the Jerries pulled me away.

XXXXX

 **Leaving Gallia soon.**

 **Lynette**

 **Day...**

The Pen and Paper lies in front of me as usual, my hands trembled as I picked up the pen. _**Al∼**_ Great , the pen was already low on ink, just like my days here alive. I looked at the wall beside me..thirteen scratches, one more scratch and my time will be up.

I took a sip of iced water and phenol, my mouth felt refreshed, just like the sky outside the window above me. I see a blue sky with white clouds. It's beautiful, just like hope. I climbed on top of my desk and peeked out.

Through the window , I saw lots of trucks, lots of Karlslandians, all armed with black guns. Then I saw barbed-wired walls and bloody red Nazi flags draped everywhere. It was so ugly.

I crawled back down to my cell, disappointed.

"Cough"

I looked behind me, and saw the Strumbannfruher herself, arms crossed , looking at me grudgingly.

"What, you are going to punish me for looking outside the window now?" I said in her language, taking a sip of my ice water.

"No, I am here to collect your papers."

I turned my eyes on the rough surface of my wooden desk.

"They are not war intel, they are useless to your work , just like me."

Barkhorn walked into my room, and placed a new cup of ice water on my desk.

"No, they are useful to me , " She said, then she looked at the wall that was so full of markings and scratches, then sighed.

"and you still have something that I would want to know." She interrogated me, the sunlight from the window basked her face in a warm light. Barkhorn gingerly grabbed one of my accounts, and raised it in front of me.

"Did you lie?"

I looked at her and smiled bitterly, "No , I did not."

And it was an honest statement.

Barkhorn let out a tired huff, and she took out her silver knife. I looked at her dully, I am not scared anymore, not scared to get humiliated, not scared to die.

"If you want to kill me now, you can do it, it will not change my answer."

"So do you really want to die?" Barkhorn questioned me, making me confused.

So I didn't answer her.

"Tell me, more about your bigger sister, Wilma."

I lowered my head, and balled my hands into a fist.

"Your Sister functions in Orleans, imagine her finding you here, now , dead , how would she feel?"

Tears started streaming down my face , I know the answer, she knows the answer.

Barkhorn advanced towards me, bent her face closer to mine, and said, "Is that really what you want?"

I looked at the wall beside me, spidered with stratches of bad omens. I used to be afraid of the scratches, scared of what they meant. Now, I am not afraid, such fear seemed so foolish in all of a sudden. The sunlight from the window shone onto that wall, there was one more missing scratch on it.

"No, that is not what I want, I know what I have to do."

Wilma will not find me, she will never find me dead, so I just have to die somewhere alone.

Barkhorn understood my meaning, she used that knife of hers not on me, but on that wall. With a grating sound of metal meeting concrete, Barkhorn carved a fresh line on the wall, fourteen scratches.

Fourteen scratches, my time should be up, but tonight, I am still allowed to sleep peacefully.

 **XXXXX**

 **Leaving Orleans**

 **L.B**

 **Day 14, Judgement Day**

It was a dark stormy night, the roads should be safe from the bombing of the Allied Airforce. Three transport trucks were used to ship all the prisoners that were imprisoned in the Chateau dlf un hotel. Some to another Gestapo department in Europe, some to concentration camps, my stop.

The Chateau dlf un hotel is no longer safe, risky from the devastation of Allied bombs. So Barkhorn , Heidemarie and Kreiger decided to join in to the ride to get reassigned elsewhere. They shared the same truck as me and Perrine, the only female prisoners under them.

We both were forced to wear these weird chained shackles with some sort of magical runes scribbled on them, probably to prevent Witches to perform any funny business. I guess they were not taking any chances innit? Then we are forced to sit on these crate-like seats wearing these shackles . (I don't complain much about that as Kreiger, Barkhorn and Heidemarie too sat on them.)

Perrine still looked horrible, silent, wounded and angry. Barkhorn looked apologetic, Heidemarie looked emotionless while I cannot tell the expression of her masked boyfriend.

I am still given the luxury of pen and paper through, reward for my shameful collaboration, I would like to write as much as possible. My last moments, now is a good time reflect, good time to write as the driver revved up the engines, and the truck started to make its move.

It seemed so funny, nobody how much am I a coward , how much I collaborated, I am still going be sent to be killed in a place of nowhere. A ordinary coward would whine and complain how unfair it was. For me, it seemed quite fair, not having Wilma finding my corpse, infecting her with the dreadful bitter disease, is a blessing to me.

This was the only act of bravery I commited in my fourteen day stay here.

Then again, I could act like Perrine, who was sitting right next to me in this bouncing truck. I could be as brave and foolish as her, in the end the results would still be the same. At least the people who recognize me as a hero, a martyr .

I looked beyond the landscape, our truck had passed a countryside, and it looked beautiful. It had green fields, grape vines and alas, all bathed in nourishing sunlight. Then our truck passed a dark tunnel, and the illusion had lifted, the beautiful sun had been replaced by a roaring thundercloud. I saw tanks, trenches, barb wires , Nazi flags , and fortifications.

Everything here is just a tragic illusion, Barkhorn used the veil of intimidation to conceal the sad, weeping bigger sister in her. Perrine used her bravery to conceal the girl who was crying in pain and agony. And I ... I am the biggest trickster, to myself that is.

Oh God – if I stop writing now they will take this paper away, all of it, all my stories. Then what comfort will I take with me to my execution? What comfort for any of us?

Sigh*

Then again, all I have done is buy myself time, the time to write this. I haven't really told anyone anything of use. I've only told my story.

But I have told the truth. Isn't that ironic? They sent me because I am so good at telling lies. But I have told the truth. Liaison officer? Enemy agent? What a joke.

I am finished now, so I will just sit here writing it again and again until I can no longer stay awake or someone takes the pen away. I have told the truth.

 **I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told the truth. I have told -**

 **...**

"WRITING STOP! "

Kreiger shouted in broken english as he snatched away the last pieces of comfort his Britannian captive had. The Brit looked at him monotonously, then lowered her head and covered her face silently with her hands

"There is no need for that Kreiger, " Barkhorn said dryly in Karlslandian.

So with a grunt , Kreiger returned the stack of papers back to the Lynette, who continued writing "I have told the truth" mechanically without stopping, until she can no longer stay awake or when she finally run out of papers.

Kreiger glared at the broken Brit for a while before looking away.

With that, truck fell into a bouncy silence as the Karlslandian transport truck were moving towards a narrow rocky road up the ominous Gallian cliffs of Orleans.

A lightning hit the end of the road, but missed the convoy of trucks. It caused a minor avalanche of rocks to roll pathetically off the cliff and down to the dense forest below , still missing the leading truck, which was Barkhorn's one. Still, it was a warning shot.

The trucks continued their advance, this time there was a downpour. Some Karlslandian passengers peeked outside their trucks and looked up. A thunderstorm loomed above the five-truck convoy with a bad omen. There was some uneasy gasps and chatters inside many Karlslandian trucks.

Then Perrine laughed.

Everybody looked at her, even Lynette, who shook her anti-witch shackles to look at the erratic Gallian. Perrine saw this, and laughed harder.

"A lightning followed by a rain then followed by a thunderstorm, I see god is punishing you all for the sins you commited you Nazi scums." Perrine sneered , raising her shackled hands and pointed at her three fellow Karlslandian passengers.

Heidemarie, who was sitting next to her Gallian captive, uneasily caressed the crucifix pendant she was wearing while casting a ugly glare to Perrine. The silver haired Karlslandian clenched her fist tightly, restraining herself from hitting her shackled , foul mouthed prisoner.

"Ohh , so you do believe in Jesus, that's cute, even Jesus will not forgive you for being a total scum back in that Hotel. I can tell, five minutes later the lord will strike you down with a lightning - ",

Heidemarie slapped Perrine shut, she stood up from her seat and slapped Perrine again and again, producing more defiant laughter from the rebel. Barkhorn stoically watched , Kreiger made no reaction, Lynette , glued her eyes blankly on her stack of papers, writing the same phrase on her stack of paper over and over again, but faster, until the pencil nib snapped.

Heidemarie stopped slapping, she breathed in a mouthful of air and calmed down.

Pop!

A raindrop splat on the standing Karlslandian`s silvery hair, she looked up and saw a hole . Soon, more water bombarded the truck, flooding the metal floor uncomfortably wet. Lynette gripped her papers tighter, not allowing them scatter on the ground and get soaked. The five passengers watched as the dirty liquid escaped from the entrance of truck and washed down to the road.

Heidemarie sat down, she looked at Perrine , who was still shaking from the Karlslandian`s impulsive assault. She looked behind her, the headlights of the truck trailing them were shone three meters away, and the blurry rain had obscured it further.

Heidemarie sat down, then she noticed was wrong, very wrong.

A tiny streak of red leaked right next from her seat, then drizzled down to join the rainwater flood. Heidemarie eyed the trail of blood with wide eyes and then shuddered. The blood trail came from none other than the Gallian, who just had broke her thumb.

"Five minutes up," Perrine sang and her shackles fell with a clang.

Before anybody can react, a blue outline flash out of a sudden from the Gallian, then the just-revealed Witch had arcs of lightning shot out of her like a tesla coil. The dangerously wet truck lighted up with blinding violet sparks, shocking everybody inside with the sudden electrocution.

"TONERREE!" Perrine continued screaming, but her voice was drowned out by the surprised cries her other victims on the ill fated truck, which started to sway in multiple directions without control, causing the other trucks behind to stop.

A lightning bolt striked down from the sky and smite the glowing truck in a flash, covering everything in a electrifying blue for a moment.

When the Panzersoldats and Karlslandians soldiers arrived to the scene, the truck was gone, leaving nothing but a towering smoke and soot. The Karlslandians tried their best to find the truck and the bodies, but to no avail.

...

Meanwhile, in the beautiful mountainous landscape of Romagna, a flock of Seagulls soared the blue skies gracefully. Those lucky birds had flown over colourful countrysides, towns , cities and forests, a natural blessing to such a small country located in very south of Europe. Where the weather is mostly just right, with its share of sunlight and freshy sea breeze.

So the Bird grew tired of flying, it perched itself on a road sign to take a small break, then started its daily routine of bathing its feathers under the beautiful sunlight. Only to find there wasn't any.

A huge shadow consumed the bird and the vast landscape, then the tempest rained down irrationally upon the mountains of City Roma. Lightnings roasted trees into fires , creating a violent light show of violet sparks and angry flames.

The Bird, unfamiliar with this unnatural occurance, did not flew away to safety as to the Bird, the roadsign of Roma was the safest place in the world for the gullible bird to perch on. So it just craned its neck and studied the unholy vortex swirling in the sky above with curious black eyes.

Then a huge lightning bolt struck down and something black came out of bolt, then came tumbling down the cliff, ready to steamroll the bird and its sign alive. In a panick, the Bird swooped out of safety and the black rolling thing smashed the roadsign off of its place, then into a nearby forest.

After a loud resounding crash, a flock of crows squawked and flew out to the sky, Migrating to somewhere else even through it was too early for them to do so.

...

Strumbannfruher Getrud Barkhorn flicked her eyes open wide. Her pupils moved slowly to the right, then back to the left, and it seems that sky was black and stormy just like before. With a grunt, she sat up from her sleeping position .

She was sitting inside a foxhole, wearing instead of her uniform, she wore a red Dirnl dress. Using a pool of stagnant water next to her, studied her reflection and discovered all her facial scars was gone, her blistered hand, the hole on her face and her eye...all gone, she looked beautiful again. Then she studied her surroundings, a gasp of horror escaped her lips.

She saw ruins , ashes and smoke and snow everywhere. Burnt down tanks, bayoneted corpses of poor Karlslandian soldiers, Empty PanzerSoldat armours were scattered all over the barren winter landscape .

Barkhorn mechanically stood up and walked , even through she have no idea where she was going, her legs moved on their own.

She stomped on something soft, she bent down and began to dig her hands through the snow, and discovered that the red and white flag of her Fatherland, were buried and defiled underneath the snow. She dropped the flag back to the ground with trembling hands and she mindlessly continued her journey down the graveyard of snow and men.

She reached the Village, glass shards and more charred ruins greeted the Strumbannfruher grotesquely. She said nothing, then she continued walking for reasons even she herself don't know.

Her eyes widen when she reached a certain cottage that stood out from the others. She gingerly opened the front door.

A swirl of flame washed over her face and Barkhorn screamed, frailing her arms in a pathetic attempt to defend herself.

She flicked her eyes opened, and saw a headless body standing in front of her. The headless body stood eerily, blocking the flames from completely engulfing her. Barkhorn stared at the ghostly figure before her. That thing was two heads shorter than her, but was tall enough to cast a shadow that to consume Barkhorn`s entire body.

" _Sis...?"_

Barkhorn uneasily looked behind her , and let out a cry of horror as tears streamed down her face.

Her sister, Christiane Barkhorn, or rather her head stared into Gertrud Barkhorn`s soul with hollow eyes. The mutilated head floated to the same height as her sister, blood leaking from her neck like a broken faucet.

The head hovered closer to her sister, who backed away in fear.

" _Sis, why did you left me to die?"_

The head flew closer, more aggressively, leaving a trail of red, murky blood as it flown.

 _"Sis, you promised me you will be back !"_

"C...Christiane, I am so s... sorry, " Barkhorn mouthed, then two arms grabbed her by the waist. The older Karlslandian screamed , as she tried to break free of the headless corpse`s grasp, but to no avail.

 _ **"LIAR!"**_ The monstrous head scowled hatefully, black liquid began to leak down from the eye sockets and mouth as it flew closer and closer to Gertrud`s face.

 _ **"You are not sorry, but you will be,"**_ Christiane hissed.

The head of Christiane Barkhorn opened her jaws so wide that her rotten cheeks began to tear. Then, outpour a vomit of oil from Christiane`s mouth to Barkhorn`s body.

The crude flammable liquid stained Barkhorn's dress and face, painting her in patches of inky black. The fiery halo that surrounded her lit her up instantly like a matchstick. Barkhorn danced and screamed as a blur of red and yellow swirled blocked her view.

Barkhorn watched with horror as her skin smothered and blistered into a sickening reddish-brown. While her clothes...began to char into darkness as Barkhorn kneeled down inside the torturous flames of her guilt.

Slowly, her clothes turned completely black, into a polished leather black as it began to extend and morphed into a new shape. Soon, Barkhorn was no longer wearing a red Dirnl dress, but a black Gestapo trenchcoat and cap , her blistered hands were coated with a pair of white gloves, a black Karlslandian cross dangles from her collar, while the red Swastika armband took form on her left arm.

In her kneeling position, she raised her face that was half concealed by her visor of her cap at the decapitated head of her sister, revealing her iconic rotten white eye and her exposed skeletal teeth from the in melted her right cheek.

With that she murmured mechanically : "Don't worry Chris, I will avenge you..."

And the hell fire consumed her.

...

Gertrud Barkhorn again flicked opened her eyes, gasping in horror. Instead of a stormy sky and halos of fire, this time, a canopy of trees shield her eyes comfortably from the burning sunlight above. Little rays of light did got pass the shield of leaves and green, but luckily missing her eyes, acting as a improvised friendly candle of light , warming the sleeping area of the shell-shocked Karlslandian blissfully. The Strumbannfruher, stood up from her lying postion and slowly studied her surroundings of bushes and jade leaves.

She turned her head slowly to the right, and she found Heidemarie and Kreiger, the latter still in his intact power suit , lying face-down on the grass unconscious, but still alive. Her ill-fated truck laid flipped and broken, with parts and glass shards littered everywhere, making the beautiful calm atmosphere around her a mockery of her current situation. To make things worse, all her two prisoners were missing from the scene.

Barkhorn stomped the grassy ground with her boots and marched to the hull of the truck, and she found the driver, still there on the wheel, with a rusty metal sign cleaved on the poor guy`s bloody forehead. Barkhorn blink stoically at the scene, then with her inhuman strength, a perk of being a witch, she removed the metal sign from the dead man`s head and tossed it on the ground with a clang.

Blood splurted from that private`s head as he fell back to his seat, with a expression of disbelief and shock before he died. Barkhorn shut his eyes with her palm and whispered : " I am sorry." in Karlslandian, even through she knew the dead Karlslandian cannot hear her.

Her attention shifted back to the discarded sign, and the Nazi furrowed her eyebrows as she read the peculiar roadsign. As a high ranked Gestapo, Barkhorn was trained in many foreign languages, Gallian, English, Orussian even Fusoan. Even through it had been so long since she practiced Romagnan, she can still read the simple words written on the piece of dirty metal that lie before her feet.

501st Joint Fighter Wing,

Roma

10km North,

Now what the hell was she doing in Roma?

 **XXXXX**

 **xxx**

info :

PanzerSoldat-III Hartmann

Infantry Mobile Suit

Nation: Karlslandian Third Reich / Nazi Karlsland

Right before the Second World War, due to the combined efforts of the Imperial Neuroi Hive and the infamous Hartmann Group, the most powerful research branch of the Karlslandian Third Reich, Karlsland successfully harnessed the Neuroi technology to complete with their Soviet Neighbours. The PanzerSoldat series was created out of Karlsland`s technological achievement of the Neuroi tech, a shrunken down mobile suit to patrol the streets of Karlsland or its occupied territories. The PanzerSoldat-III acted as a police mobile suit, powered with a Neuroi core, armed with a MG456 miasma cannon, it is the perfect armament to cause fear to the pesky resistance who dared to defy the Third Reich.

Based off NewTypeAuthor346's gigants and Wolfenstien`s UberSoldaten

...

Character Info

Hans Krieger

Nationality: Nazi Karlsland

Class: Supersoldat Enforcer

Affiliation: Orlean Gestapo

Strumbannfruher Getrud Barkhorn`s most trustworthy assistance, loyal ,buff, strong, not very smart, perfect Aryan feature of being blonde and blue eyed, and seemed to have an affinity with the PanzerSoldat-III suit. Hans Kreiger was assigned as Barkhorn`s right hand man after Barkhorn mysteriously returned from Seelow to serve the Reich again. Not afraid to use violence, and not afraid of death, Hans is Barkhorn`s perfect hammer to trample over any who did funny business in Barkhorn`s territory of Orleans. Hans flaws, other than his thinking, was that him having a secret affair with one of his colleagues in the Orlean office.

...

Heidemarie w Schnaufer (World War)

Nationality : Nazi Karlsland

class: Night Witch

Affiliation: Orlean Gestapo

Born in Calw, located in southern Karlsland, which not far from the national border with Galia. Heidemaire's magical power manifested itself during her childhood and, since her night eye was quite effective, people expected much of her future as a Night Witch. However, because she could not control her night vision ability during her childhood, she was forced to live constantly in gloomy indoors. Incidentally, her parents were into the wine business and she used to make their gloomy wine cellar into her playground.

At 10 years-old, she was matriculated in a witch development institution and given a education that included how to control her ability. Though her night vision ability would no longer activate accidentally, the damage previously done to the optic nerve could not be restored even with magical treatment, so she usually wears glasses with a very strong prescription.

Eventually, Heidemarie as a Witch, will be conscripted into the Karlslandian army due to Hitler`s intense conscription in preparation for the war. Heidemarie did not joined the Luftwaffe, air force, but joined the Gestapo instead due to her ability as a night Witch. Heidemarie can intercept numerous radio signal from the underground resistance, communists and from anyone who had broke the oppressive laws of the Reich. Making her a dangerous tool of surveillance for the Gestapo Secret Police. Thanks to her help, Barkhorn caught over hundred rebels , all either gets shot or sent to a concentration camp.

*Strike Witch Heidemarie W Schnaufer`s Alternate counterpart

...

Amelie Planchard (World War)

Nationality : Gallia

class : Witch

Affiliation : Free Gallia

Born to a farming family in Normandy, in Northwest Gallia. As the first witch in her family line, she was sent away to a national training institute where she lived alone, away from her family, a difficult experience for such a young girl. During the Karlslandian invasion of Gallia, she joined the Free Gallian Forces with Perrine H Clostermann, the two formed a close bond together.

*Strike Witch Amelie Planchard`s Alternate counterpart

...

Lieutenant Sanya "Volk" Vladmirovna **Litvyak** (World War)

Nationality : USSR

class : Infantry Witch, Neuroi Hybrid

Affiliation: The Red Army, Third Shock Army.

Having to witness her mother separated from her, seeing her father tortured to death right in front of her just for playing an accordion in Christmas, and finally having a Neuroi core stuffed right into her skull, transforming into a monster that was neither human nor Neuroi, all thanks to the Karlslandians. Vladmirovna Litvyak , sustained herself through that unadulterated hatred she has with the Karlslandians, growing up into one of the most brutal and notorious Red Army Officers serving under Josephine Stalin.

Litvyak fought in the Winter War against the Suomishs and there she committed the Red Scorch of Suomus and the Execution of a Hundred. Where Litvyak scorched the whole countryside of Suomus with Napalm and executed a hundred prisoners of war just for the sake of drawing out one single Suomish sniper whom had taken out fifty of Litvyak`s men that day.

In Karlsland, her orders were clear, kill all Karlslandians as much as possible, for they are not allowed to surrender. As no Fascist animals shall be denied of their revenge.

When criticized of her war crimes throughout the war, she would say : " The Geneva Treaty was written by the Capitalist and Capitalists only, no point following a useless piece of waste paper."

*Strike Witch Sanya`s Alternate Counterpart

 **XXXXX**

 **Author`s Notes :**

 **Disclaimer : " I don't Elizabeth Wein`s Codename: Vernity nor Strike Witches and its characters (Aside from my own Altered Versions and OC)**


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